The Hearts Of Gods
by Blanqueraq
Summary: Because a Dragon cannot be without his Pheonix after all. Kuro/Fai.


_The Hearts Of Gods _(9,997)

---

_-- Yuko -_

The sharp crackle of electricity flitted across the atmosphere in thick, blue white tendrils. It ripped out large chunks of the sky, leaving nothing but a vast emptiness, black and gaping like the mouth of some ancient beast that swallowed the universe long ago. The light crystals of unfallen rain sizzled in the air, setting off the smell of burnt ozone and some other deeper, more charged scent of power. Radiant, like the heavens themselves were facing their final battles with the impetuous of foolish gods.

Foolish they were.

In the middle of a deadened clearing, a woman stood, like an elegant flower amongst the whips and lashing blows of the storm. The ribbons and fabric of her silken robe were the only things that bent in concession to the vengeful wind - for she, herself was a power that lay just outside the space that swirled around her.

Her eyes, a deep wine red, looked on in eternal boredom, as tendrils of raven colored hair thrashed furiously. She wore no expression of note, because she needed none.

Yuko Ichihara was the space-time witch.

"I'm sure I can hazard a guess as to the specifics of your desire, but like a great many things, I must follow certain rules, as well." Gazing at the man kneeled before her, the witch thought she might've felt a twinge of pity, a brief floe of sadness - but like the many thousand wishes and millennia that existed before, it was easily thrust aside, replaced with the practicality of her trade. She'd lost her compassion a long time ago.

"May I grant your wish?"

The man - no, the god - clutched at the sword buried three inches into the wet and blood slicked ground, as if its strength was the only thing keeping him upright. He was bare chested, dark crimson rivulets streaming thickly over muscles so taunt and stiff, the cold rain sizzled at the touch. His eyes were shielded by wet hair and shadows, but Yuko did not need to see them to know they contained nothing but hate, rage, vengeance, and a lust for more battle.

Yet, there was also misery. Sorrow.

She couldn't afford to feel a momentary kinship. If she did, like a house of cards her eternal guise would crumble under the weight of her own personal despair.

A twisting, sinewy blue snake of lightening dropped suddenly from the sky, burying into the earth behind him with a sonic boom that left them both in a state of soundlessness. The air was sucked clean from their lungs. Time became a prickling stasis that waited on the action of one to effect the other.

For Yuko, there could be no influence unless he gave it to her. When thought upon, she had to admit it was quite a clever and ingenious safety net.

After what seemed like an eternity, the god stood. He showed no outward appearance of fallibility, no weakness that suggested his limit had been reached some time ago, and for that the witch found herself inclining her head slightly in respect. She offered a sly smile, before gripping the material at her knee to shake loose the excess water.

His red eyes burned the air in the self-same passionate hue, glowing with a light that promised hell. Yuko was sure, had she been some regular mortal, she never would have survived such a look unharmed. Lucky her.

"You may, witch." the voice was grating, like the crack and burn of graveyard bones. It sounded forbidding, unforgiving.

The storm only grew in temperament at his echo. Yuko said nothing, her gaze an inscrutable red as she waited for the words and the exchange that would set her own power free. The young god, thankfully, did not keep her waiting.

"Return him." A flash of light and the deep, rumbling boom of thunder arced across the heavens, throwing his face into sharp, angular relief. The shadows became dark, and a thick impenetrable.

Yuko smirked at him, noting her odd penchant for heartbroken bad boys. "You know as well as I that nothing can be returned from death. Nothing." Because prevarication was the name of the game and she had so few creature delights, Yuko was quiet as he struggled to contain his anger, her gaze steady through the howling storm.

Apparently, the Kurogane before her appreciated a good game even less than the other one.

"My wish is you return him!" he demanded loudly, the steam rising like a cloud from his over heated flesh. The metal of his sword glinted dully in the low light, streaks of electricity flying up and down the shaft as he took a single angry step forward. Yuko was not intimidated, nor was she impressed.

"A phoenix from the ashes? Perhaps. Gods do not die so easily here," Her velvet eyes flickered away for a moment, taking in the desiccated bodies, the blood that boiled through the ground like acid. "Though, when the desire is strong enough, a person's will can accord his own wish and an intermediary is unneeded.

At least, I suppose."

Kurogane's burning eyes narrowed, heating degree by intolerable degree. The blackened and curling grass seemed to grow hotter in consequence, little flames erupting to dance gleefully on their carcasses. "If I could do it myself, witch," he hissed out on a breath of ash, "you would not be here, fouling up the air."

The thunder boomed in rapid succession, like an elemental beat to a dance Yuko had no innate knowledge of. Here, she was the outsider. "Hardly a time for insults, I think."

Briskly now, her amused half smile was replaced by a neutral mask as she slid calmly, effectually into the art of the deal. "I'm sure you're aware I require payment that is in equal proportion to the entirety of your wish. No more, no less."

He nodded, dark gray thunderheads piling higher still, churning and flickering dangerously above them. "What would you require?" Though his voice echoed flatly, the way his body trembled with power - a power dangerously unhinged - warned Yuko his world wasn't going to last much longer if things continued. Lost in his own insanity he would probably destroy it himself.

Her gaze, however, revealed nothing. "North of here, a young boy is traveling with his mother. A group of highwaymen will attack them and though the mother is valiant, and you are swifter than the fall of shadows, you will not arrive in time to save her. That is her destiny."

She paused, smiling briefly into the wind. "As it is yours, to know him once again. A dragon cannot be without his phoenix after all."

Laughing lightly, Yuko lifted an eyebrow when the god turned, tensed and leaving a fiery footstep in his wake.

Kurogane was hopeful and anxious, and he had all he needed from the witch.

"Wait."

He stopped, though he railed bitterly against it. One must always remain, if not respectful, tolerant of the space-time witch. "What?" he growled lowly, the power from his sword whistling like a rope cut through warm air. The sound only grew in tenor as his patience waned.

"My payment." thunder rolled and blue crawled skeletal fingers across the swirling sky. "Rebirth is a cleansing, and as such, he will not know you. You will not tell him, either.

Twenty years from now, I will return, and whatever has happened in that period will be moot. For a creature so endlessly infinite, your time together will be sadly finite. That is your price.

Do you accept?"

Kurogane knew the fires around them had leapt into great spearing flame at her words, but there was nothing he could do about it. His kind were led by their passions and rages alone. Rain continued to fall in thick, sword metal sheets, pounding the ground harder, though it was unable to pierce the blazing orange walls that surrounded them. In the clearing it was an airless, dry eternity.

Yet Yuko stood calm and unamused at the center of it.

The scream of Kurogane's sword grew louder, almost deafening against the popping crackle of flames. He wanted to bury it in the witch, in the chests of his kinsmen once more, until nothing but silence and the stench of blood consumed the last of his fading senses. As a god, he owed nothing to no one.

He owed everything to the blasted witch. "_Yes_."

The storm came to a head, wailing like the lament of a heartbroken lover, and obscured Kurogane in smoke and burning shadow. He was gone at Yuko's second blink and the world stood still, the inferno, the winds, the rains all dead, as if they'd hardly erupted in the first place.

The heavenly blue of the sky peaked through the dark clouds, coming out of their hidden realms when they were sure he was gone. For a moment, Yuko would admit his world was quite a lovely place, her face angled towards the warming and inconsistent rays of sunlight.

She smiled a little and turned, the tinkle of her earrings and ornate hair pieces trailing behind. Unnatural shadows twisted and writhed until they too, swallowed her whole.

---

_-- Kurogane - _

The witch had been right. He'd not expected less of course, but it would mollify him slightly to think she was fallible. Wrong.

It wasn't so, and as he began to dispatch the twelve men like wildfire across a summer plane, he realized he was indeed too late - and just in time. One of the stringy haired, dirty bastards was kicking aside the body of a fair skinned woman, beautiful even in death and covered by the dregs of her life's blood.

The man licked obscenely at his knife, before advancing on a small child that cried softly in the grass. Conceding that the witch had been right so far, Kurogane decided he wasn't of a mind to take any chances. He didn't care how long he had, so long as he had it.

His sword slid like blue fire through one of the men in his way, just as the other bent over the weeping boy, laughing coldly. He laughed no more when Kurogane flashed behind him and separated his head neatly from his neck.

Blood spurted into the air, a veritable geyser as the man's body toppled like a slab of meat to the ground. It squelched disturbingly, but Kurogane had already forgotten him in favor of the child still crying in the grass, face scrunched up and hands braced above his head. Kurogane could see a faint bruise marring the pale skin of his cheek, but even in the dappled shade - the boy dirtied and splashed with blood - he'd recognize those elegant features anywhere.

Childishly rounded perhaps, smaller most definitely, but the archetype existed still. Apparent in the cupid's bow mouth, the straight and just a little long nose, and the hair that curled wildly, a bright summer blonde.

It would grow dark like honey, Kurogane thought for a moment, and the curls would pull into a wave with time. Standing there, his ashy breath stuttering on a well of emotion that began to rumble the ground beneath them, the god was not a god, but a man.

One who'd desperately missed his lover.

The heated silence that abounded, and something else, perhaps something more, seemed to alert the boy, tears slowing until they finally stopped. Heartbeats passed, a warm stray wind swaying the dark leaves as several fell to the ground.

Cooling blood from the corpse soaked the grass at Kurogane's feet, inching along the earth to wet the boys legs and the hem of his long tunic. He lowered his braced arms to his chest, and almost curiously, angled his head, though his eyes remained closed.

Kurogane lowered the sword he'd been holding ready at his side as well, tremors subsiding.

The silence went on and he wondered if the air would ever thin out. Become breathable.

Finally, with a quiet, very child like sound, the boy opened his eyes. Captured in endless blue, a mysterious and fragile inner light, Kurogane was convinced. There was no one in the world with a shade quite like Fai's.

The boy stared at him for a long while, and Kurogane felt the heavy thump of his heart in his chest as it pumped hot blood through his veins. He was alive and the world no longer a dead thing around him.

Then the boy smiled. Smiled in welcome.

Kurogane dropped his sword with a dull clatter. Though exhaustion was generally a foreign concept to the gods, it fell upon him now - knowing even in his ancientness, his time would be short. Cruelly short.

Closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, Kurogane made the same vow to himself as he'd made the instant the phoenix crashed against him, so long ago, in a flurry of wind and feathers.

Always, his life for Fai's.

"You will come with me." the words were more statement then request, and the boy, _Fai_ he thought thickly, did not seem averse to it. As if buried in his young heart was an awareness that screamed for Kurogane too. Certainly, the god didn't question it.

He watched as Fai slowly sat up and turned his head, tears renewed at something in the far grass. Kurogane followed his gaze, and understanding, felt the boy's pain lodge unpleasantly in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say, indeed what could be said, because an eternal being born from the crash of earth and sky knew nothing of death and the mortal colloquialisms offered in the hopes of comfort. Any knowledge of where their kind went after was lost to Kurogane, lost no doubt to the other gods.

For the ancients, the expiration of one's vessel was the end of all ends. There was nothing else.

He looked away from the dead woman, stomach tight, and back to the child in the grass. Such truths of course, did not seem to apply to the phoenix god. In fact, Kurogane doubted anything he had to say in amelioration would make it better - having very little in the way of a compassionate nature to begin with.

He was overextending really, because he had nothing in the way of a compassionate nature. For anyone.

It was a wonder, he thought with vague amusement, Fai hadn't left him eons ago.

Sighing, Kurogane eased into a crouch, comfortably eye level with a boy whose tears hadn't ceased and eyes continued to stare. Though they shared a sentient chemistry, Fai still existed for a number of years with a mother, without him, and with the knowledge he was only a mortal in the grand scheme of things.

Kurogane wouldn't disabuse him of such notions. Not yet, anyway.

"We could…" he began uncertainly, "…bury her someplace pleasant." That was the best he could offer. He hoped it would be enough.

The trees continued to sway, dark evergreens and rich lime colors moving to the beat of the winds and the heart of a lonely god. It seemed like a long time before the boy answered, but perhaps it wasn't, considering his awareness of the sudden precious commodity seconds had become.

The boy turned a moment later, eyes wide and sad, yet eerily resigned. "Yes. Thank you."

Kurogane nodded.

_---_

_---_

He'd never faced the daunting reality of time before and how swiftly it flowed through one's fingers. Already three months had passed from the moment he'd looked down and seen the eyes of his lover in the face of a mortal child, and it sent a chill of all too foreign fear rushing through him. So short, disgustingly short.

For the most part they'd simply traveled - to the shore, the mountains, the forests. Maybe he could escape the inevitable end of their time together if he kept moving, though Kurogane knew better somewhere deep in his heart. The boy at least understood, because he voiced no complaint, simply smiled and returned to his letter songs and numbers.

Fai , as he readily responded to, was surprisingly intelligent. Though Kurogane would rather face a thousand years of torture than to admit it, he enjoyed listening to the boys rambling narratives about this or that. They were always bright and incredibly creative.

Kurogane found it odd that while some things were different, others remained unchanged.

"Will I be staying with you from now on?" An eloquent manner, Kurogane mused, for one so young and unaffected. He chuckled to himself, thinking, even as a god Fai had been much older and it would be foolish to believe the incarnation had lost all previous experiences with a single cosmic snap. Like drifting feathers, he suspected the boy would slowly reclaim what was due.

The power of a god doesn't just dissipate into nothing, after all.

Carefully putting aside the sword he'd been sharpening on a stone, knowing the answer to Fai's question wouldn't be as simple as it seemed, Kurogane motioned for the boy to sit. They'd settled in a copse of trees that day, near enough to the shore to hear the waves crash against the rock and sand, and closing his eyes for a moment, Kurogane let the sound soothe his internal chaos.

He'd never realized just how frequently he let his passions rule him - not until he'd come into prolonged contact with a fragile mortal child. A boy who only had to smile to wrap Kurogane's heart around his oh-so fragile finger. It was incredible, really.

Giving a noncommittal grunt, Kurogane opened his eyes and watched as Fai plucked out weeds and blades of grass, tearing them up methodically before blowing them out to the far winds.

"If you want," he began slowly, "or if you'd rather return to any family you still have, to a place you're familiar with, I won't keep you." The lie burned like acid on his tongue, but Kurogane had learned long ago, his desires mattered little when it came to Fai - and he most certainly wouldn't lay them at the feet of a child.

It appeared his answer, however, still wasn't good enough. "…but what do _you_ want?"

Staring, Kurogane felt his mouth fall open though no words came out. As the minutes passed and a light breeze stirred the air, ruffling the boy's curls and brushing against their skin, something like pain and laughter swirled uncomfortably in Kurogane's gut. It didn't seem to matter what shape or form Fai was settled in, his once lover knew exactly how to tear him into a million pieces.

Like flecks of grass on the air.

Red eyes glowing with secrets, the god turned away. He had to tamp down hard on the swell of clouds that moved in, the brief, powerful blasts of a summer storm, until he was sure the heart of it was clenched tight, a dead muscle in his fist. The boy, _Fai_, just stared as if the answer was paramount over some little squall.

Finger by finger, Kurogane's hand loosened until it lay flat across his knee. "That hardly matters." He rolled his shoulders restlessly, before turning a distant stare back on the child. Not even a flinch, a bat of the eye. "I can take you anywhere you wish. You have just to say."

The boy leaned forward without a word, placing his chin in cupped hands and smiling toothily. Kurogane noted that he was missing three - one on the top and two on the bottom - and for some reason it made the corner of his mouth tic. He was positive it was a frown, certainly no where near a smile.

The distant sound of birds and the rush of the ocean weaved heavily between them. "I want to climb trees. Will you climb, too?"

It would not strike Kurogane until much later that the boy had really never answered.

---

---

"I'm going to fetch water from the river now!"

Kurogane looked up from the fire he was stoking in the cooking pit, Fai's small figure outlined against the light coming in through the open shoji doors. Squinting a little, he nodded. All too quickly it felt as though they'd fallen into a routine that was both strange, and yet remarkable, for its novelty. He'd never been depended on as much as he was in the past year - for food, shelter, comfort even.

The fact the boy had stayed at all continued to surprise him. Not that he wasn't grateful, immensely grateful.

If he only had nineteen years, Kurogane wanted each and every second to himself. Perhaps it was selfish, egotistical maybe, but as a god he'd grown used to getting what he wanted when he'd wanted, and as a man had never been denied. The phoenix, of course, had shaken enticing limbs in his direction, but Kurogane was the one who'd pursued, and consequently attained.

He'd never had to want before. It was a surprisingly painful and aggravating experience.

Sometimes, late at night when he sat poised as a guard against the wall and the boy was sleeping comfortably near the fire, Kurogane would find himself dreaming of his once lover. How they hadn't just shaken the world, they'd shaken the universe, flooded deserts, rained fire and knocked entire villages off the map.

He'd awaken afterwards, aching, and sadder than he'd ever felt in his long and endless life.

Then he'd catch sight of the boy's face, thick with shadows and shifting light from the fire, and the feelings, the want would pass, easier and easier each time. Fai was Fai - just being in his presence was a balm to his angry soul.

With a sudden exhalation, Kurogane finally abandoned the fire and made his way to the door, grabbing his whittling knife and a hunk of dark wood before he settled into his customary spot on the steps outside. Having no battle to fight or enemies to slay, he'd found himself wanting for a way to occupy himself.

It was necessity that found him a new diversion. Slowly, he shaved off a corner of the wood block until it was rounded, digging away at what would be the inside of the bowl as he waited patiently for the boy to return. The wind was quiet, a calm reflection of his mood.

He continued to count his minutes, however, as preciously as a miser would his coin.

The realization amused him. In fact it continued to amuse him even after he'd come to accept the inevitability of his fate, as well as the not quite actualized pain of it.

An immortal concerned with time. How unbelievably incongruous.

As the wood started to take familiar shape under his hand, Kurogane felt a faint stirring of pride mixed with pleasure at the sight. He'd destroyed a great many things, a great many people, but he'd never truly sat down and fashioned something. He'd never had to.

It was oddly fulfilling.

He'd already carved a few matching bowls and a set of cups for them to eat out of, and when the boy returned he planned to cook dinner. Something simple, because even in a new body and as young as he was, Fai still had the same taste for the bland. Kurogane brushed some of the shavings off his knee, and thought maybe curry would be a good idea.

Pausing with the knife over a knot in the wood, Kurogane blinked slowly and began to chuckle - a rough, deeply amused sound. Carving furniture and preparing meals, who would have thought it possible of the dragon god?

Smirking still, he'd felt Fai's approach more than he saw it coming.

"I brought the water," the boy grinned, sloshing the bucket in his hands as he looked on curiously at Kurogane's work. His expression was impish as he spilled several drops at the god's feet, revealing the loss of yet another baby tooth in his wide, delighted smile.

"So I see." Placing the half finished bowl aside and slamming the knife into the front step, Kurogane stood, plucking the bucket out of his hands. Then he turned and headed back inside the house, the padding of tiny feet following close behind. "We're practicing letters tonight, I think."

Skipping around in front of him, Fai nodded his head happily. "Then numbers tomorrow?"

Kurogane chuckled and ruffling the boy's hair, hung the bucket to warm over the fire. "Numbers tomorrow."

---

---

He hadn't lost him, of course not. Fai had simply been misplaced, and as Kurogane thundered angrily through the underbrush, dangerous storm clouds rolling overhead, he knew the child would come bounding back as per usual, all long ungainly limbs and gap teeth if the racket was big enough.

Shouting again, Kurogane was going to make sure the racket burnt the entire forest to the ground. He'd avoided stationary dwellings close to mortals or mortal villages for just this purpose - so Fai wouldn't somehow get swallowed up never to be heard from again.

The boy had made his decision, and unless it became otherwise, Kurogane was going to protect him until the very moment _she_ sauntered back and ripped him away.

Knocking a heavy tree to the ground with a well placed boot, the god had to bite back hard on the urge to shift space and find him. It would accomplish nothing - because he was irritated and likely to expose himself as well as scare the boy half to death.

Though Fai had proven capable and more than a little precocious, Kurogane still set boundaries that up until then, had always been followed to the letter. He'd never admit it, but he was more worried than furious about what might've happened to make the boy disregard him. The possibilities had a tight fist of unease forming in his gut.

After all, he hadn't left the grace of the gods a well liked man. He'd killed sixteen of his kinsman and blood always demanded blood - no matter that eventually, there was no more blood left to spill.

Tightening his hands into fists as he stomped through the sparse and fall liveried trees, Kurogane swore if anything happened to Fai - _again_ he raged - he'd take his due from every one of them. Not just the guilty parties. There'd be nobody left save him once he got through wreaking his vengeance on the entire world.

He'd swallow it whole.

With a furious howl, Kurogane felt the ash and burn of power build in his lungs, that wanted nothing more than to release itself, felling everything before him, around him, behind him. He just needed to know the boy was alright, to finally wake up content again, to once more hear his lover's voice and not some shadowy parallel that continued to dog his dreams.

He wanted a million things and knew with a painful ache in his chest he was never going to get any of them.

"Dammit Fai! Answer me!"

"I'm here!" The voice was young and shaky with anxiousness as the boy finally hurtled past a line of low growing plants and thicket. Relief flooding him at the sight, Kurogane had to quell the overwhelming urge to sink to his knees. As it was he'd curled his shaking hands into fists so as not to do something foolish and un-retractable.

Like crush the boy to him and try to slow the rabbit fast punches of his heart. He absolutely despised the fear sitting thick and nauseating on his tongue, loathed the fact he himself put the flavor there for not watching Fai more closely in the first place.

Swallowing over it, Kurogane took a single unconscious step forward.

He didn't notice the unease in Fai's eyes, nor the book held tight in his grip.

"I-I'm sorry…" the boy mumbled, fidgeting in the tall grass as unsteady gusts of wind blew by. The broken apology stopped Kurogane cold in his tracks. He felt confused and a little stricken by the thread of fear he could sense in Fai's soft voice - fear of _him_. It was even worse than the moment of heavy paranoia he'd suffered not knowing where the boy was.

He could imagine how Fai, a tiny mortal child saw him in his strangeness. Dark clouds ripping at the sky above, red diffusing from his eyes like blood through water. The uneven hum of energy he was struggling to conceal per the witch's instruction - so hard because it was apart of him, had always been apart of him, running through his immortal veins.

He breathed in suddenly, a little lost, before closing his eyes at the smell of nervous sweat and the boy's devastatingly blue irises, the pin pricks of pupils. Another stray wind started to swell, but he abruptly shut it off after an instant.

It was the delicate snap of twigs and dried leaves that had his eyes flicking open again. He was across the field in seconds, standing between Fai and a patch of dark woods, body tense at the darker shadow that moved within.

At the moment - driven by instinct - the boy's fear mattered little when compared to the value of his life.

"Oh my," a sweetly gentle voice murmured, before a pretty young woman emerged from the trees, "I'm sorry sir, it was my fault he didn't answer when you called."

Kurogane's eyes widened infinitesimally, but other than that he remained impassive, expressing nothing. With a kind smile the woman padded lightly across the grass and broken leaves, a look akin to indulgent familiarity brushed across her heart shaped face. There was no fear, though it was more than apparent he could crush her like a bug if he wished.

He stood almost two feet taller, and probably outweighed her by a hundred and eighty pounds.

"We were chatting you see, and I happened to have an extra book in my basket - one of my daughter's - and he seemed curious so I offered to have him come along with me. So we might read it with my girls." she paused, looking suddenly contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask if he had a home, or somewhere to be. I thought he was one of the waifs wandered too far from the village."

Kurogane was silent, his expression hardening ever so slightly at the woman's words. If he hadn't been positive she was being honest with him, he might've knocked her to the ground quite a while ago. In fact as he looked at her dumbly pleasant expression, it only reaffirmed his belief that mortals were short lived and shockingly ignorant of what went on around them.

Any response he might've considered, and there were many, was promptly delayed at the gentle tugging on his pant leg. Looking down on the boy, he noticed the apprehension still darkening pale eyes, a thickly bound book held aloft for him to see.

"They're fairy tales," Fai said in an odd voice. "See?"

Kurogane did indeed see. Too well in fact. His face still impassive, he nodded slightly as the wind began to pick up again, swaying the half dead trees around them.

The woman continued to smile, though there was a sudden awareness in her mossy green eyes. Something Kurogane felt a dark pleasure over. "I apologize for not thinking. These woods are so old. I should know better."

Seemingly curious at the undercurrents, but too young to understand, Fai moved forward and smiled up at the woman. "Maybe another time? I think I'm late for dinner."

She gave a non committal nod after a brief moment, and motioned for the boy to keep the book when he tried to give it back. "My daughters have enough. You can return it when your ready." though the response had been directed at Fai, Kurogane felt almost certain she'd meant her parting words for him.

He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready. Scoffing a little as he turned away, nudging the boy along, Kurogane wondered if this meeting was not just another one of the witch's overtures. A gift without really being a gift because she had no true power in the weft of their world.

As they headed back through the darkening forest, the woman a niggling but carefully brushed aside memory, Kurogane found himself staring at the boy. Now that Fai was safe, the god was able to think in a more logical fashion. More sensibly as well.

He knew nothing of raising mortals, but if there was one truth he'd gathered about them as a whole, after a millennia above and among them, it was their feverish need for others. For tangible contact. It was one of the only traits they shared with their godly counterparts and something Kurogane could remotely understand.

He'd needed Fai like sunlight on his skin. However, the boy needed others just as strongly.

Kurogane wasn't unaware of his own faults, things he'd only come to realize more as he taught numbers, cooked meals, carved bowls with a new found serenity. It was arrogance coupled with an innate selfishness - perpetuated by the boy's unnerving desire to please him - that made him hide in the woods like some pathetic animal.

He'd always wanted Fai to need him as much, if not more than he needed.

He chuckled a little sadly at the thought, keeping his silence even at the boy's curious and concerned look. For gods, they were both such imperfect creatures.

Making up his mind as they approached the small and cozily tended house, Kurogane tugged the story book from the boy's arms. Cleverly hand painted dragons with shining scales knotted the cover, surrounding a single white phoenix dipped in blue flame. Smirking ironically, Kurogane figured he should've known.

"We'll read this after dinner," Kurogane began slowly, conceding to the new and, required changes that were beginning inside him, "and tomorrow, we'll take a walk into the village to return it. She said she had daughters - they're probably your age."

The boy grinned, excitement in his eyes and happiness practically spilling from his pores. When Kurogane felt himself offer a brief smile in response, he knew he'd done right.

It was right, because it hurt.

---

_-- Fai -_

Fai tugged hard at the stiff material of his freshly cleaned tunic, looking down uncomfortably at his toes. He knew he should probably tell Kurogane-san about the fact he'd started to outgrow his shirt again, but for some reason he always felt guilty for every inch he gained - as if it was one more inch _away_.

Fidgeting with the rope-sash tied around his waist, Fai glared a little at the book that sat innocently in the corner of his room. He wanted so much to tell Kurogane-san he'd never leave, never stray far from him ever, but the words would get stuck somehow at the pain he'd glimpse in the man's eyes. It made his stomach hurt.

Like he'd been punched there, or eaten too many sweet fruits.

The feeling was almost as bad as the day his voice broke, and Kurogane-san told him he would have his own room from now on. His unofficial guardian, and protector would sleep in another close by.

It wasn't the same though.

Fai would stay up late sprawled across the futon and listen to Kurogane-san troll restlessly down the halls, through the house, and wish the intolerable pulling in his chest would just stop. Give him a little peace. Something he hadn't rightly felt since the moment his mother was cut down and a man with eyes like hell, extended his hand and asked Fai to come along.

Now he wasn't entirely sure if Kurogane-san wanted him to go or stay. At times it felt like a mixture of both.

Gnawing on his bottom lip and rubbing at his forearm, Fai padded silently through the opened partition and down the long hallway. Kurogane-san was cooking in a large pot in the main room, those gnostic familiar eyes, steady and seemingly calm while he stirred and poked the fire. As Fai stared he was suddenly swamped by feelings that were patently beyond him, but he sensed in a few short years would become all the more graspable.

"You'll eat before I walk you over." The words were low and without inflection and the boy flinched a little, because it always unnerved him the way Kurogane-san was able to know where he was and what he was doing no matter the place. No matter the distance.

It made the pulling in his chest all the more unbearable.

Belatedly nodding at his words, Fai shuffled into the room and slouched onto the tatami, letting his eyes wander from the man's expressionless face to the flames that danced prettily in the shallow pit. He thought about Miss Sakura's daughters Chi and her sister, their kind smiles and what wonderful friends they'd become over the years.

They'd been fun and easy to be around when he'd felt so terribly out of place. Awkward, like the time he'd watched Kurogane-san fish at the river, snatching them out and tossing them onto the bank where they flopped, silver scales flashing as they gasped for air. Desperately looking for purchase on a dry and sandy shore.

He'd wondered why he himself couldn't stop flopping.

Fai hugged skinny knees to his chest and continued to stare morosely at the fire, tiny sparks flying onto the scarred floor. The pleasant waves of heat blew across his face, toes, while the silence began to slowly grate on him. Eating away at his adolescent nerves.

He felt terribly like two people battling for dominance inside a single body - one foreign, frightening and so knowing, the other himself, a mixture of things he'd learned and things he'd done. Sometimes, he was afraid of who would win.

The flames swirled in the pit, hypnotizing, as he felt his lips tug into a frown. It also irritated him to no end that Kurogane-san pushed him into visiting the girls, especially when he didn't feel like it. He gripped his knees tighter, sighing deeply.

"Is something wrong?" The boy closed his eyes, letting the voice wash over him in soothing cadence, before silently shaking his head in response. Though he loved Kurogane-san like a father or a brother, and something more except that something left him floundering - confused - he didn't need him to fix everything. Fai had done well enough with just his mother for several years.

Some days it seemed, when he stared at his reflection in the water or studied Kurogane-san for a long time, Fai got the feeling he'd been ancient since the day he was born. His clumsy body painfully inadequate for the grace and power he knew flowed deep inside him.

Sighing again, he reached out with careful fingers and let them play over the tips of the flame. Kurogane-san just kept stirring, his eyes intent between the pot and Fai's hand - always faintly worried, always very watchful.

"Do you…believe that story about the phoenix and the dragon? The one in my book?" Fai paused, drawing in a tight breath, "Do you believe such beings actually existed?"

The fire popped angrily as the air went stagnant and still around them. Fai wondered if maybe he'd said something wrong, and if he had, why didn't he seem to care? Out of the corner of his eye he waited as Kurogane-san ladled food into bowls, setting one on the ground near the boy's leg, before picking at his own with a roughly hewn pair of chopsticks.

Fai turned his head a little, laid it down on top of his knees. Kurogane-san wouldn't meet his eyes.

"If they did they were foolish. And they got what they deserved."

Blinking, the boy laughed, before he lifted his bowl, and a little sadly, began to eat.

---

---

It was a cold season when Fai's body finally made good on its promise and grew into the awkward size of his hands and feet. Ice crusted the ground outside, a light frost coating the skeletal frames of the ancient trees, the river frozen over like a wide and shimmering mirror. The animals had become scarce, but Kurogane-san was an excellent hunter and salted more than enough meat for the winter months.

They'd been out that day for another one of their frequent food scavenges - not that Fai didn't appreciate the knowledge, but he sensed with every sad, sideways look, each lesson taught, 'goodbye' was all the closer on the horizon.

That pulling had also grown so much worse, so uncomfortably wonderful, and worse. He'd taken to visiting Chi and her family, because it'd become nearly impossible for him to share the silent, convoluted space with Kurogane-san. It was like an electrical current passed between them, a childish back and forth game each time they breathed the same air.

He hated the need he felt in the man - not obviously of course, never obviously - because it was a need Fai didn't know how to answer, wasn't sure what it was to answer. Kurogane-san never offered a clarification, too busy carving and brooding and pacing the hallways, until he sunk into his customary spot outside Fai's door every night. Always watchful, always protecting him, and always just out of reach.

Fai had started to react to the distance, and as he trudged out in the snow following a fresh trail of deer tracks, he wondered resentfully if the man even noticed. Or, if like two strangers intimately acquainted, they simply co-habited the same barren place devoid of any people, any life besides their own.

Yet they gravitated towards one another. Except instead of following what their nature insisted was right, Kurogane-san pulled hard in the opposite direction, like a stubborn mule desperate to follow some hidden reasoning. Fai considered himself a patient person, especially as the years had passed, but even he was beginning to feel the strain.

The snow crunched loudly beneath his boots as he glared hard at Kurogane-san's back. Of course, it completely escaped Fai the dual nature of his sudden thoughts, both child and man - mortal and sentient - while he'd followed quietly in the other's footsteps. The battle of selves continued to wage inside him, but somehow he'd started to take on the characteristics of both, slowly and surely becoming someone new.

He'd taken to using silly, endearing nicknames, because they sounded familiar even if he wasn't sure why. They slipped easily from his tongue because Kurogane-san's eyes encouraged the words, though his expression, his response begged to differ. To be honest, Fai was still shocked by his growing ability to see so clearly through that once unfathomable face, as easy in fact, as staring into his own reflection .

It made the pulling less painful and some how more tender - comfortable, like the warmth of a dancing flame.

"This is important. You need to pay attention, Fai." the words were a barely comprehensible grumble, but the sound of his name still sent a shiver of intense longing down his back. As if he'd heard it spoken in such a way hundreds of thousands of times before, though Kurogane-san had only just begun to consciously say it.

The man had stopped calling him that insufferable 'boy' when Fai coldly informed him what he could expect if he ever used it in reference to him again. Fai was never one to blow his stack passionately unless a moment truly called for it, preferring something more subtle to the direct, but even he could only take so much of that intolerable word.

Shaking his head and pushing back the hood of the heavy animal pelt Chi had stitched together for him, Fai offered a steady look, a small smile on his lips. It seemed one of his few delights lately was to push the other man's buttons. "Of course, Kuro-pii! I wouldn't think to let my mind wander, especially after the last hundred times we've hunted -" he glanced idly at the impressions on the ground, "- doe and a quite a few of their offspring, if my assumption's correct."

The sarcasm, apparently hadn't gone over Kurogane-san's head and if the look on his face was anything to go by, he was very displeased about it. Except he wouldn't say anything and it was driving Fai crazy.

Blinking, it seemed they'd reached the frozen edges of the lake - gleaming and perfect - though he wasn't entirely sure when it happened. His mind had been wandering so much more lately.

Kurogane-san stared at him for a long while, irritated and thrumming with the frighteningly powerful current that was always there like tendrils of spider web between them. Bringing out their hearts to bare, but only for each other to dance around, because one knew that time was short, and the other wasn't sure how to breach an impenetrable distance.

So they did nothing, and it continued to gnaw at them both. Turning away from the horrible feeling, Fai sauntered slowly towards the lake, stooping to grab a broken stick out thrust from the snow, before he squatted at the edge and poked the ice. It cracked and leaked under his delicate prods.

The silence was suddenly expectant and having developed an incredible amount of patience over the years, Fai continued to gaze at his distorted reflection, waiting. The other man hadn't moved from his spot, looking far and away over the trees and into the sky - like he could see something there he desperately wanted to escape to.

Fai curled his fingers around the stick until splinters dug into his skin.

"You've…grown very well. Even lovelier than I expected." the voice was gravelly, thick with embarrassment and some other emotion Fai couldn't quite pick out. He immediately felt his hand go slack, the stick sink into a small hole in the ice, and though he tried hard to push it back, a very faint warmth flood his cheeks.

The cold, thankfully, would hide most of it.

Fai hated he knew those kind words couched something equally painful, something that would undoubtedly tear him into tiny little pieces.

He was right. "You're going to leave me soon, Fai."

The air was suddenly degrees and degrees colder, and he knew his eyes were carefully blank by the time he stood and turned around. Yes, he'd been aware it was coming, but to hear the words out loud, without evasions or fabrications, was still painful. Almost as painful as he'd imagined every night for the past several years - putting up with each lesson Kurogane-san insisted he learn for his own survival.

The man had been raising him to leave one day, and that damnable pulling in his chest hurt like hell because of it.

Fai said nothing as they continued silently in their pursuit of fresh deer, the ache now a low, unpleasant throb. It would go unnoticed for a long while, until he was sitting comfortably on his floor, flipping through the pages of his book and trying hard not to think on the day he would be forced to leave.

Like the sadness, he expected the tug would fade with time, surely before he left because he couldn't care that much about the man - surely not that much. He would realize quickly how wrong he was, because the pain didn't leave, but in fact went on and on like a splinter drilling deeper into one's skin.

It swelled, bled and festered, until Fai was sure the only way to stop it from infecting the rest of him was to cut the thing out.

Still, even as his soul wasted, he knew he'd do anything Kurogane-san asked of him. Absolutely anything.

---

---

The day he was to leave dawned surprisingly bright and warm, on the very edge of summer, smelling faintly of wood smoke from the village and the perfume of late spring flowers. Kurogane-san had warned him some weeks ago of his departure date and he supposed in a childishly petulant way he'd endeavored to keep the temperatures cold with his slowly emerging gifts.

Other than that he refused to make a fuss, because if Kurogane-san didn't want him he wasn't going to force the issue. He'd tried it already, sliding close to the other man - overwhelmed with feeling for the only person he kept in almost constant physical contact with - and as the shadows had grown long and heavy, he hadn't seen a rejection in those hard red eyes.

He'd kissed and been kissed in return - warmly, hotly with so much emotion he'd noticed an unpleasant burn at the corners of his eyes when he'd been pulled abruptly away. Gasping, because he knew with all his damnably tugging heart they belonged together and it was dangerous for them to be parted.

Except Kurogane-san turned away from him - left the room, the house, for three days. The longest time he'd been away since their meeting twenty years ago. Fai was almost worried he might not come back, but for some reason - perhaps that pull - he realized the other man wouldn't give up what little time they had left.

Even though it went unsaid, he knew Kurogane-san was equally involved.

Rising painfully slow from his bed, Fai stretched long, graceful limbs in the low light that slanted through the paper on the shoji, his eyes heavy with fatigue from a very restless night. The ache hadn't faded, perhaps it never would, and with stiff, mechanical movements he began to dress himself.

A soft, white linen tunic and slim black pants with a pair of sturdy boots to finish the ensemble, but he decided not to pull them on until he went outside.

Kurogane-san told him he would need to bring nothing, but there were a few personal items he couldn't bear to leave behind. They were packed in a small satchel he'd placed in the main room, where his eyes consistently strayed as the week passed.

He'd already exchanged goodbyes with Chi and her family. Their watery smiles had prickled him fiercely, but in an ambient way and no where near as devastating as Kurogane-san's half aware mumbles and vacant looks. It made him sick to his stomach to even think of it.

Shaking away memories of his sweet and quiet natured friends, their gentle embraces - Kurogane-san's overwhelming silence - Fai swallowed hard over the lump in his throat, shuffling towards his futon where his old story book lay sprawled and open on the floor. He nudged the hard cover with his foot, before leaning down to grab it. Certainly, he'd gotten too old for the sad legend, but it was a gift and somehow achingly familiar, so he couldn't think to leave it behind.

The scent of one of his favorite meals was wafting into the room, and as he clutched at his book, Fai was almost off down the hall demanding that Kurogane-san let him stay. At least until he could figure out why the story was so familiar, why the room went cold when his emotions became unruly, and why every second felt strongly of deja-vu even though he was positive he hadn't lived any moment once before.

He had to know why he wanted to curve his body around Kurogane-san's body, touching him, holding him - though to be honest the answer wouldn't sway his desires. It didn't particularly matter why he needed the man close - the man who'd cared and protected him for twenty years - but still the reason niggled at him, wearing on his nerves.

He was unable to figure out an answer, anyway.

The hours passed so quickly, like water through a sieve, that by the time he'd finished his last meal with Kurogane-san time was almost run out. He'd really miss how the man cooked their food, because it always tasted so much better than his own failed attempts.

He'd gone and spent a little while in the forest, saying goodbye to the wide, glimmering lake, the twisted trees he'd climbed so happily as a child. The deep and comfortable silence surrounding him, as the ancient yews and sycamores seemed sad at his departure as well.

It was amusing and strange his exit would be so much more quiet than his entrance into Kurogane-san's remarkable world.

"Our deal will come to completion today, young god." The woman's smooth and modulated tones disturbed Fai slightly and for a second, just a second, he wanted to snap his fingers and disappear somewhere else, somewhere he could decide on. It was only hotter by mid day and even as sweat began to slide down his neck and into his collar, all he could manage to feel inside was an intense cold.

Barren, empty and completely devoid of warmth or light.

As he stared blankly at Kurogane-san who remained so still, silently unmoving in the light shadow of their home, he realized at least he'd finally figured out what the man was. He could put a word to the passionate moods and powerful sparks of something - energy, magic, wichery - thanks to the oddly indifferent woman who was taking him away.

He wanted terribly to turn and run, because leaving frightened him and his chest hurt so bad he was worried never seeing Kurogane-san again would kill him somehow. The pack he carried felt heavy with memories and unsaid things, and a foolish promise he made, the only one he'd ever made to another person.

The day Fai had forced a kiss that was for a moment reciprocated, was the same day Kurogane-san had come to him and sat at his bedside, staring into the dark, before he'd asked quietly for something very important. Fai hadn't wanted to give it, but the other man had grabbed his chin and pulled his face close, compelling him with those hard, burning eyes.

He'd looked so sad, Fai was unable to do anything except nod and offer his word.

There would be no running, because it would do him no good. When the woman, the wish granter came for him, Fai was to go without question or suspicion, because despite everything, he knew the other man wouldn't purposely send him to his death or someplace terrible. He could trust in that.

Feeling the soft packed earth beneath his boots, he wondered if Kurogane-san even realized it didn't matter where he went - it would still be unpleasant without him.

With a deep breath, Fai watched, a little afraid and a little angry as the woman shook back her long dark hair, tied in several braids that jingled with little butterfly charms and ribbons. Her smile was deep and unfathomable, which made him uneasy because it was strangely like his own.

Smiles to gloss over other, complex things that to be honest had no true expression.

Maybe he'd expected more words, but there were surprisingly few when he turned to follow the woman, where a seal had been burned into the forest floor. Fleetingly, he wondered how he knew what the strange marking was, but after a moment, he realized it didn't particularly matter.

The wind picked up, stormy and suddenly dark on what was formerly a blistering summer day - lashing angrily through the trees and long grass. It whipped through the small clearing where their house lay, fluttering the woman's long, flowing dress, their loose clothes and hair.

Fai stared across the few feet that separated him and Kurogane-san, unable to hide the first cracks in his stiff façade, misery and longing seeping slowly out. It clutched choking fingers at his throat.

A crack of thunder boomed over head and still the man wouldn't look away. He was barefoot and bare chested because the heat called for little else.

The scent of the woman's perfume, faintly floral mixed with a heavy smoke wafted around him until it was all he could breath, all he could taste in the violent squall. It didn't diminish the memory of Kurogane-san's smell, however.

He doubted anything would.

As the world darkened, and expanded around him, the strange woman muttering under her breath, he continued to stare. Nothing would break his gaze, even as the first drops of rain began to fall, sizzling before they hit the ground.

Everything suddenly went arid, inside and out. He felt his heart lurch painfully in his chest, trying so hard to reach the man who was moving further, and further away from him with every second that passed.

It sounded like the universe was ripping in two, when Kurogane-san took a single step forward. Fai felt his muscles lock against the need to jump clear of the circle and race to meet him, not even touching, but just to breath the same air so the pain might subside.

Red eyes snapped and glowed, agonized, until Fai was forced to turn, blinking the dampness away. Still it didn't prevent a trail of wet from escaping to slide slowly down his cheek.

He convinced himself it was just the pounding rain though, which had escalated ferociously.

"Check your pack." The words were barely audible, but Fai could read them clear enough on Kurogane-san's lips, just as the wind picked up even more and the seal beneath his feet rippled like an early spring lake.

Gasping a little, he squeezed his eyes closed and smiled, offering a mocking salute. The bright shadows writhed wildly, before a loud popping broke the bubble of silence and exploded in light.

Fai could hardly breath in the small circle, but even as his heart stretched to breaking he was glad the last thing he saw was…Kuro-pii.

His dark hair thrashing with the elements, hands fisted, body shaking as the sky cracked jaggedly above him. Fai knew it would remain in his memory forever.

Maybe there were things they hadn't said, but at least they understood each other anyway.

**Love**

A/N - lord almighty that KILLED ME! I had the worse case of writer's block halfway through and I thought I was never going to finish it! Cries so happily. I'm sorry I've been…like dead for the last month, but I didn't want to do anything else until I finished this epic, epic one shot for me. I felt like a cheater if I tried to start anything else. I also haven't read any Kuro/Fai lately because of my depressedness over this thing, so I have no idea if this sounds anything remotely like anything else that's been posted. If it has, I'M MEGA SORRY and it wasn't on purpose. You can even ask Sakurakiss, I started this like almost a month and a half ago and kept promising to finish, even though I kept getting blocked and side tracked.

It made me soooo mad. Well anyway I hope you like it. I know its pathetically sad at the end, but there really wasn't any other way I could think to finish it. Some things were purposely vague and others weren't, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to do like a prequel to this, as well as a shorter sequel.

I hate leaving things so completely without hope.

Well, anyway, I hope you liked this and pretty please review! It feeds the greed of my fragile self-ego. Just think, your contributing to a girl not being depressed!

As for Sakurakiss, thank you for your prompts, definitely gonna play around with them and I really hope you like the entirety of my massively epic one shot.

Twenty three goddamn pages. Urgh, that's the longest I've ever written a single chapter or one shot. Phew I'm wiped out. Again, sorry if anyone else had this idea, I seriously came up with this shit months ago and finally, finally finished it.

I absolutely hate writers block. Review if you hate it too XD.


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